Dear Trish,
Hope you and Irv are doing well. I miss seeing you on a regular basis, trying new beers, playing Cranium, and complaining about Ed.
I do want to take this opportunity to say thank you for inviting me to your wedding. It turned out to be the catalyst for an important journey for me.
I didn’t realize quite how fat I was until I couldn’t squeeze into the dress I brought to Sedona for your big day. This dress had always been my go-to dress. (Full disclosure: It’s a maternity dress. It doesn’t look like a maternity dress. Nothing maternity about it except that it has an empire waist. I just like it because it’s a pretty green silk.)
But I had a rude awakening when I was getting ready for your event.
Houston, we have a problem.
The dress must have shrunk at the drycleaner, right?
My Spanx waved the white flag.
I’m sorry I ruined all your wedding photos trying desperately to either avoid the camera or hide behind my children.
Look here. Dominic is not large enough to cover me:
Let’s take a closer look:

Yes, yes, I know this is counter to the whole body-positivity movement. But let’s be honest: We all know when we are not the size we should be.
No one wants to feel like their seams are screaming.
The week I got back, I went out to dinner with my friend Kim. She had dropped 30 pounds and looked great. We have the same feelings about diets and working out (i.e., hate them with a white-hot passion). She shared her secret (and I will too if anyone wants to DM me), and I was off and running immediately.
I started my program the last week of September. This week, I hit my goal weight.
I’ve lost 45 pounds. That’s like losing a first grader.
And three dress sizes for me.
Here I am in the wedding-attendance dress that I now need to have altered. (Dominic has changed considerably too.)

Here’s the side-by-side before-and-after image for your viewing pleasure.

And here’s one of me the day I started this journey next to how I look today.

I feel so much better about myself.
It’s not a physical thing — I could always do stairs and whatnot.
It’s a mental thing. Being about to reach deep into the back of the closet and grab pre-kid jeans? That’s some real joy right there.
This is not PC (Kate Moss even regrets saying it), but it’s true for me:
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.
So thanks, Trish. Inadvertently, you started me on a better path.
Congratulations on your eight-month anniversary coming up.
Your not-so-fat friend,
Beth
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